Student 1: My name is Tom Archer because my ancestors were making bows and arrows.
Student 2: My name is Sam Baker because my forefathers were bakers.
Student 3: My name is John Dickinson, and I hate this game.
A man goes on a business trip to Japan
In Japan, he picks up a hooker and they go all night long. The entire time they were making love she was excitedly shouting: Hasimota! Hasimota! Since the man obviously didn't know a word of Japanese, he concluded it was some sort of an excitement noise. The next morning he meets with a few japanese businessmen on a golf course. One of the businessmen makes a shot and, surprisingly, scores a hole in one. Everyone applauds and the foreign man, wanting to sound clever, shouts: Hasimota! The man who scored the shot turns to him and asks in confusion: "What do you mean 'Wrong hole!'?"
My daughter gave me a handful of rocks for my birthday…
They have deep sedimental value to me.
A farmer has four beautiful daughters
He’s a bit overprotective of them, so when Friday date night rolls around, he greets the gentlemen callers at the door with a shotgun over his shoulder. Friday night rolls around, and the doorbell rings, so he walks to it, shotgun in hand, and opens it to a young man who says: “Hi, I’m Freddy! I’m here to pick up Betty! We’re gonna go eat spaghetti! Is she ready?” The farmer is a bit bewildered by this greeting, but he can’t see anything wrong with this guy, so he tells him: “ok, have her home by 10.” A few minutes later, the doorbell rings again, and the farmer opens the door with his shotgun over his shoulder to a young man who says: “Hi, I’m Jim! I’m here to pick up Kim! We’re gonna go for a swim! Can I come in?” The farmer is again bewildered by the greeting, but again, he can’t see anything wrong with the guy, so he tells him: “ok, have her home by 10, and no funny business in the pool.” A few minutes later, the doorbell rings again, and the farmer opens the door with his shotgun over his shoulder to a young man who says: “Hi, I’m Joe! I’m here to pick up Flo! We’re gonna go to a show! Can she go?” By now, the farmer is completely dumbfounded by these greetings, but again, he can’t see anything wrong with the guy, so he tells him: “ok, have her home by 10.” A few minutes later, the doorbell rings one last time, and the farmer opens the door with his shotgun over his shoulder to a young man who says: “Hi, I’m Chuck—“ and the farmer shoots him.
What’s worse than raining cats and dogs?
Hailing taxicabs
[Possibly OC] How excited was Wendy to go to Neverland?
She was so excited that she nearly Peter Pans.
What do you call a fat psychic
Four-chin teller
My best friend passed away recently, and grieving before his grave I said,
"Bro, I really miss you. My wife has been pregnant for 8 months now. How about you reincarnate as my child?" A month later, my wife gave birth to a big boy. As my child grew older each day, I realized he looks a lot like my best friend. I'm really happy that my prayer worked.
Because Shower Thoughts doesn’t allow images I guess
Because Shower Thoughts doesn’t allow images I guess
I’m a big fan of whiteboards.
I find them quite re-markable.
All I got for Christmas was a pack of sticky cards.
It was difficult to deal with.
So, I got married once..
To a solid 7/10. She wanted kids right away. Gets her wish, so fast forward 9 months, baby is on the way. I am in the waiting room because I couldn't handle it. I see my child for the first time. Told her she could name the baby anything she wanted and she tells the doctor that her name is 'Love'. Wife isn't a hippy or anything and I'm not a huge fan, but fuck it, I promised her. Fast forward 10 years. Love comes back from school crying. I ask her what's wrong. Says she is being bullied because of her name. I cheer her up with some ice cream. Problem solved and best dad award achieved. Fast Forward 7 more years. Love has turned into a 9/10. She dresses normal. Always wears red nail polish. But she is shy, very shy. She is still mocked constantly because of her not so ordinary name. She comes home from school one day, obviously disturbed. I ask her if it's about her name. She says nothing and just kisses me on the cheek and leaves. First time she has kissed me since she was a baby. Just wasn't her thing. Then, I hear my wife pulling in. She is home early from work. I hear the door open from daughter's room. The door then opens from garage. Loud blast goes off directly behind me. I fall to the ground. Wife looks at me and screams. I look down and see bullet through my chest. Love says something about her name. I look up at my still beautiful wife and I say: Shot through the heart And you're to blame You gave Love …a bad name
I don’t always tell dad jokes…
But when I do, he laughs.
I dig, you dig, he digs, she digs we dig, they dig.
It's not a long poem, but it's deep.
Boy asks, “Granny, have u seen my pills, they’re marked LSD”
Granny replies, "Fuck the pills, have u seen the dragon in the kitchen?!"
I’m making a new documentary on how to fly a plane
We're currently filming the pilot.
I bought some shoes from a drug dealer
I don't know what he laced them with, but I've been tripping all day.
Donald J. Trump walks into a bar…
and lowers it
Your mom is so fat
Your mom is so fat that, a group of people started believing that your mom is actually flat. [EDIT] OMG, thanks for the Platinum Wow, thanks for the support guys
Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. PHD’s Letter From Birmingham Jail, his response to southern religious leaders accusing his protest movement of being too extremist and badly timed.
I highly suggest everyone reads the full text of the letter linked at the bottom of this post. The mod team was deliberating for days to think of what sections we should link to as an excerpt in this post, when we realized that we were just copying the entire letter at one point. Every word King writes here is powerful.You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city’s white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.[…]My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was “well timed” in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “Wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant “Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.”We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, “Wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger,” your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”–then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that “an unjust law is no law at all.”[…]Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to deny citizens the First-Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.[…]I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.[…]I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.[…]And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss as “rabble rousers” and “outside agitators” those of us who employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies–a development that would inevitably lead to a frightening racial nightmare.Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself, and that is what has happened to the American Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom, and something without has reminded him that it can be gained. Consciously or unconsciously, he has been caught up by the Zeitgeist, and with his black brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America and the Caribbean, the United States Negro is moving with a sense of great urgency toward the promised land of racial justice. If one recognizes this vital urge that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand why public demonstrations are taking place. The Negro has many pent up resentments and latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides -and try to understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: “Get rid of your discontent.” Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist. But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label.https://ift.tt/2UjhbQc /r/PoliticalHumor mod team decided that this sticky would be a much more effective support action than shutting down the subreddit or other standard Reddit protests, because honestly, those protests don’t do much.)
A Muslim man came to the USA many years ago.
He found love, got married and had a son. The son eventually graduated University, found a wife, got married and moved away for job reasons. Unfortunately, one day the old man's wife passes away, leaving him alone in his house with a huge garden. After a lot of grief, the man has the idea of bringing the garden to new life. However, not being young anymore, it seems like an impossible task for him alone. He writes to his son: "My dear son, after your mother's death, I am finally ready to move on. I'd like to bring our old garden to new life. Unfortunately, the task seems to be too much for an old man like me. I know you're busy with work and family, but maybe you could help me with digging over the old patches. This would help a lot. Love, your father." Some time later he receives a short message from his son: "Father. Please keep away from the patches. It's where I hid the 'Thing'. Your son." The next morning, combined forces of FBI, NSA and HS invade the property and the neighborhood. They start questioning everyone and search the man's garden inch after inch, soil layer after soil layer. In the evening, they still haven't found anything and finally give up. The man receives another message from his son: "Dear Father, I'm glad that you want to move on after Mom's death. Work and family prevent me from visiting you right now, but after the recent visit of the authorities your garden should be dug over and ready for renewal. That's the best I could do at the moment. Love, your son."
At the end of the physics lecture, I asked my professor, “What happened before The Big Bang?”
He said, “Sorry. No time.”
A Redditor walks into Reddit Restaurant…
All of our servers are busy right now. Please try again in a minute.
Why dont chickens insult each other?
They dont like getting roasted
What’s the difference between outlaws and in-laws ?
Outlaws are wanted.
Why did Karen press CTRL + Alt + Delete?
She wanted the Task Manager.
What do you call a can opener that’s broken?
A can't opener
I sexually identify as Michael Jackson
My pronouns are He/Hee
I think I banged a Chinese celebrity.
She kept screaming “I’m Wei Tu Yung”. Like I was supposed to know the name.
Congratulations, r/Jokes! You are now featured as the most eco friendly subreddit of 2019!
Why? Because everything here is recycled. To everyone on r/Jokes, thank you so much for doing your part in saving the environment!